


Oceans & Mountains

by FloJoMo



Category: Pearl Jam Eddie Vedder
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 14:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17684840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloJoMo/pseuds/FloJoMo
Summary: Maga needs some time to herself. That doesn't last long when she meets that mysterious surfing figure.





	Oceans & Mountains

I'm usually a mountain person, but in this case, I thought I'd try to be a beach person.

I wanted to be alone, something about the mountains felt too exposing for how I was feeling. Too many ghosts can follow you through the forest and up through the tree line. The beach, I thought, would provide enough noise to soundtrack the mess in my head.

Another break from the norm for me sees me staying in a motel. There are a few other guests, enough for a jovial "Good Morning", enough to be alone but not isolated. It's not so bad, the closest signs of civilizsation away from here are a couple of miles away.  
The patio area at the back of my room lets me watch the waves and few surfers who venture out into the, seemingly never calm sea.   
I'm scared of the sea. This is the only foil in my plan, I can only think about tumbling in the waves and not making my way back to the surface.

This evening the sky is grey and brooding, an orange line on the horizon is the only clue the sun shone at all today.  
I enjoy the stormy sky, watching the clouds shift and darken, knowing I won't be out in it.

A figure is quickly making their way up the beach from the darkening waves, surfboard under arm - I feel cold, just looking at them. The yellow light coming from my room behind me is the only one on so far. It feels exposing, but I also like to think of it as some kind of comfort to anyone still in the cold surf.

The figure seems to be arranging their things to leave. I've seen the same silhouette most evenings and I've wondered where they go. I imagine a tiny house somewhere close, or a van.   
I lean towards van life for them, if only to project my own wish to have my van back. Long story.

..........................

Morning coffee on the patio was my apparent new routine. I had to break the habit of sitting there for hours.   
So, I rally, pull on my shoes and walk along the narrow path that leads to the cliffs that cut off the sandy beach. 

Ahead of me, I can see a white van and I smile.  
"Ha! Gotcha, such a cliché" I said to myself. Jealousy is not a virtue.

The trail leading to the top of the cliffs is rugged and steep, perfect for avoiding too many people.  
I can't be bothered listening to myself so I pull out my earbuds and continue with a half listened to podcast. Music is too risky, I don't want to feel too many feelings right now.

.........

As I reach the top of the cliff, the view opens up and I can see the beach and ocean stretch for miles.

That familiar figure makes its way down the beach and I feel a comradeship with him. Here we are bucking society's trends and living how we choose, or so I assume so.

"You live in that van and surf all day.. damn the man" I say out loud.  
As if on cue, the figure turns around, scans the cliffs and then...he waves.  
"What the ....?"   
He cannot have heard me.  
Maybe he felt me watching. Great, that makes me a creeper now. Well, at least he waved, I don't have to worry about him too much.  
I should've waved back...Jesus hell Christ.  
I ducked, as if that would work now. Oh well...  
As he picks up his board and heads  into the surf I start to follow the trail further. It skirts along the side of the cliffs, hugging the edge, taking me away from the scene of the crime. I sneak a peek behind me and see the surfer bobbing on the waves, waiting to glide over the surface. I'm sure he's great but my second hand embarrassment is too much and I can't bear to watch just in case he's actually terrible.

........

A couple of hours later, I'm decending the same path I hiked up.  
The walk has bouyed me up, there's a spring in my step and I feel optimistic.

The van comes into view and I can see my old friend rummaging around in the side door.  
The ice is kind of broken so I may as well smash it before I look like a total weirdo.

"I like your van"

The figure suddenly has a face as he stands up straight and turns towards my voice.  
He's older, only a little taller than me, tanned (obviously), his brown wavy hair is still wet, about chin length.   
He's running his hand roughly over his beard, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Thanks. Good hike?"

He makes a point at looking at my trail runners but we both know why he knows I've been hiking.  
I smile, slightly shamed "yeah, was...erm...steep"

"Sorry for waving at you like a lunatic, I just saw you up there and I was waving before I knew about it."

"Oh....I didn't notice" lies!!!

He knows I'm lying, his face is a picture of confident amusement.

Change the subject, quick.

"Van life?"

"What? Oh....yeah, kind of. I like to take off sometimes and just see where it takes me, it's not my home or anything."

I smile " wouldn't be a bad thing if it was".

"You're right, if only life were that simple."

He's leaning against the van and it's easy to see he takes care of himself, I suppose he has that confidence that comes with age and living a thoughtful life. He's unnerving me a bit.

" Well, I might see you around again" I start to walk past.

"Yeah, sure" he smiles.

As I'm walking away, I can't tell if he's looking but I daren't risk looking back in case I increase my creep credentials.

Why am I even bothered?

..............

I'm sitting on the patio when surfer boy appears from the sea. The sun is going down and the temperature is dropping. I'm about to get up to grab a sweater when I hear "you like wine?"

I spin around, alarmed.

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump. Wine?"

Surfer boy (man really but I'm immature, I suppose...so boy he will be).  Why not, I think, I'd be glad of the company, I haven't had a conversation in about a week, well, not one I wasn't rehashing in my head, this time coming out with witty, devastating truths that leave the other person in stunned silence and awe.

"Uummm ..yeah. why? You got some stashed in your shorts?"

"Less handily, in my van." He looked like he regretted that sentence immediately.

"Oooohhhh, yeah, stranger danger 101: don't get in vans with men you don't know" 

He chuckles, uncomfortably. Raising his eyebrows nearly to his hair line and waving his free hand slightly as he speaks.  
"Let me start again: If you like wine, I have a bottle I would be glad to share, would you care to join me? ....not in my van. Out in public...you can bring pepper spray if you like."

I can't help but reply like a smart ass in a 'posh' accent "Well, yes please, that sounds delightful, where would you like to meet?" 

"There's a rather spiffing spot about 100 yards that way, wonderful view, bench should the lady prefer"

What are we doing? I stop the posh accent before it gets really ridiculous.

"Tell you what, since you don't seem too murder-y, would you like to come here and we can enjoy this patio heater?"

Rescue is in screaming distance.

He smiles, it's disarming. With a nod and a salute "I'll be right back."

While he's gone, I grab a cushion from the room and sling it on the other chair. Then I rearrange it, 3 times. I light the big 3 wick candle on the small table, then blow it out.   
I check my hair in the mirror, messing it up...stylishly?!?  
"What are you doing l?" I ask myself...."would you agree to wine if he was unattractive? No, no you would not you hypocrite." Dismissing my reflection in the mirror, I grab the 2 coffee mugs from the coffee tray and head back out to wait casually(?!?) on the patio.

When he comes back he's wearing jeans and long sleeve tee, I realise this is the first time I've seen him dressed. I stand and welcome him to my temporary abode. He waits until I sit down before he does...how gentlemanly. He brought 2 glass tumblers with him so I attempt to get rid of the coffee mugs, for some reason I'm ashamed of thinking we'd drink from them.

"Ed"

I'm caught mid mug shuffle, I look up "eh...? Oh...Maga....Margaret if I'm in trouble" I smile, accepting his offered hand in a formal introduction.

"Well, Margaret if you're in trouble...nice to meet you"

"Am in trouble?...please, not Margaret...makes me sound like my Grandma"

His smile is warm, he chuckles "ok, ok, I thought it was time we officially met. Seems we're two of the only people around."

"Yeah, I've seen you in the beach everyday, I was starting to think you were a ghost or something...only one mad enough to go in the water."

He looks up from opening the wine, his eyes are so blue, it's hard not to look. I can't tell whether he knows how pretty they are or not, he couldn't not know surely - he would only look up through his lashes like that if he knew, right? Up closer, I can see the fine lines that crinkle around them when he smiles, his face is comforting, he doesn't seem like a stranger.

"Not many people come this far out at this time of year, that's why I like it" he answers. "What's your story?"

"Well, I was born on a sunny day in 1983, my parents...." I looked up to see him laughing and feigning disapproval of my not funny joke.   
"I'm just taking some time out, wanted to be away from everything for a bit."

He seemed to sense that I'm not keen to spill my guts so he picks up the glass he filled while I was talking, holds it aloft, waits for me to do the same "Slainte" we both say.

"We're both feeling Celtic it seems" I laugh.  
"I'm jealous of your van"

"You should get one, I recommend it. Nothing like just stopping where you want, and, at my age being somewhat comfortable"

"I did have one, the reason I don't anymore is partly why I'm here. I'm not usually a motel dweller" 

"This isn't a bad spot for a motel, it's not a depressing one" he grins.

We plough through more small talk, draining our glasses as we do. I can feel my face flushing as the wine warms me nicely.

"I've got a speaker if you want to listen to some music?"  
Not really giving him a choice I run/skip/ stumble into my room to grab it and my phone.

"Right, what's your poison?" I ask, scrolling through the music on my phone. 

"Can I see my options?" As he holds his hand out for my phone.  
"Sure, I've got Spotify .....and unlimited data, please don't be intimidated by my wealth. I'm pretty fancy" I snort laugh. Oooh wine!

He takes my phone, scrolls through, I don't know if I imagined it but he made a weird face and looked hesitant a second. He made his choice and handed my phone back. 

I'm just chatting away, my usual drunken ramblings, combined with a fear of silence in a one on one conversation. I stop, look over to see him searching my face, he's smiling....so that's good.

"Please can you stop me talking" I beg, laughing. 

"I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable"

"You're not, I just do this when I meet new people."

He sits back, sips his wine, smiles and says "I've got another bottle if you want?...you're good company, just chill, ok?"

"OK, I'm actually less nervous than I usually am with new people, believe it or not. You're kind of a reassuring presence....I can't put my finger on it, but please take the compliment"

He gets up, walks away and I relax into my chair. 

He looks back, still in the light smiles and chuckles.


End file.
